


The Voice on the End of the Line

by acepotter (ardenpotter)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Depression, F/M, Gay Harley Keener, Gay Peter Parker, Hurt Peter Parker, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Peter Parker Meets the Avengers, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Suicide Attempt, The Avengers Are Good Bros, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, i like to pretend civil war never happened
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:52:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23534845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardenpotter/pseuds/acepotter
Summary: Sam is just a voice on the end of the line. But somehow, he thinks, talking to him is helping. "I think I'm okay for now."or Peter calls the National Suicide Lifeline from the Manhattan bridge on a difficult night and a voice on the end of the line changes things, hopefully for the better.
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 49
Kudos: 606





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm writing for the first time in like two years, and I blame the quarantine.Trigger Warning for suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide, suicide lifelines, depression, anxiety, minor character death.

It was a quiet night. The view was amazing, but he could barely see his feet swinging below him through the tears blurring his vision and running down his cheeks. His phone in one hand, he held it like a bomb about to go off, arm’s length away balancing on the palm of his hand above the drop below.

Could he really do this? He knew the number. It was a number burned into every teenager’s brain throughout high school. Health classes, school assemblies, posters pinned to the notice boards and taped to the walls. And, of course, those few sombre school gatherings to inform everyone another student had been lost.

He knew the number. Everyone knew the number.

After another few minutes of deliberation, he slowly drew the phone to his chest, taking a moment to look down at the water below. Everyone always describes it as peaceful, but in that moment, it was anything but. The wind screamed past his ears, threatening to overwhelm his senses. The lights of New York city, blurred through the thick tears, looked so bright against the black backdrop of the sky. Then there were the cars honking and screeching across the bridge below him. Honestly it was a miracle some do-gooder hadn’t spotted him yet and called the police.

God he’d never hear the end of it. He thought of Mr. Stark finding out his mentee and now technically foster child was spending his Friday night on top of the Manhattan bridge, deciding whether or not to jump off it. He shuddered. At least May would never know.

May. God, he missed May.

He held the phone close for another second, looking down one last time before he dialled the number.

1-800-273-8255.

“ _You have reached the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline, also servicing the Veterans service line. If you are in emotional distress or suicidal crisis or are concerned about someone who might be, we’re here to help. Please remain on the line while we route your call to the nearest crisis centre in our network”_

He almost hung up.

But then he thought of May. How May would feel if she were still here. How May would feel if she knew that _she_ was a big part of the reason he was sitting up here. And God, he couldn’t do that. He knew that one day when he went, it would be at his own hand. But he would _not_ do this because of May. Because May wouldn’t want that, and he couldn’t deal with that guilt. And then of course there was Mr. Stark. He tried not to think about Mr. Stark right now.

He swung his legs perilously below him, the wind rushing past almost drowning out the atrocious elevator music playing through the phone as his call was redirected. He only had to wait about 30 seconds.

“You’ve reached the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline, this is Sam speaking.”

Peter froze for a second. He almost hung up again.

“H-.” He couldn’t do it.

“It’s okay. Speak whenever you’re ready”, the voice, Sam, said. Peter guessed they were used to dealing with anxious callers.

“Hi.” Peter cursed himself. He sounded like an idiot.

“Hi. Would you like to share your name? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“P- Peter. My name is Peter.” Surely there were enough Peters in New York City that that wouldn’t give anything away.

“Hello Peter. How are you feeling at the moment?” Sam spoke calmly, as if he’d called to have a chat about the weather tonight. It was oddly comforting. Peter took a deep breath before he responded. He was doing this for May. Because he couldn’t let May down like this. Because he couldn’t let May be the reason for this. He’d never forgive himself.

Not that he’d be around to forgive himself, but you know.

“Um. Not great actually. I mean not bad, you know like, I’m sure there are people doing… bad. Worse. But I mean, I’m not good I guess.” Peter closed his eyes in humiliation as he babbled uncontrollably. God, this probably thought he was an idiot. “Yeah,” he finished lamely.

Sam chuckled a little. Peter pouted almost indignantly.

“Just because some people may have it worse, doesn’t mean you can’t feel bad. Do you want to talk about what’s making you feel bad?” Sam’s voice was still calm and controlled over the line. Peter looked out over the water, and briefly considered just hanging up now and doing it. Ending it.

He couldn’t let himself think of that right now.

“Er, well I mean lots of stuff, you know. A lot of things. There’s just a lot of things going on.” God that was an understatement. His aunt just died, he moved in with his superhero mentor, which meant hiding from the press and lying to almost everyone he knew, except for Ned. Ned was his guy in the chair. Then there was Spider-Man. Spider-Man couldn’t just stop patrolling because he was feeling a little sad. But it’s not like he could talk to Sam about that.

“It sounds like you might be overwhelmed by all these things that are happening.”

Yeah, he supposed. That sounded right.

“Do you want to talk about any of the things going on? Maybe we could work a few things out, take some of the load off your shoulders.”

That sounded okay, he guessed. He couldn’t talk about Mr. Stark or Spider-Man, but he could talk about May and school at least. He didn’t even have to tell him too much. Sam seemed nice, and something about his voice and the reassuring way he talked, calm and understanding but not pitying or sad, made him feel safe talking to him.

“Well, my aunt die-” Peter had to close his eyes and gather himself for a second. “My aunt died recently.”

“Grief can be difficult. Were you close?” Sam asked. Peter was glad that he didn’t apologise. Everyone kept apologising. Everyone was “sorry for his loss”. Mr. Stark, Pepper, Happy, Ned and MJ, his classmates, his teachers. Even Flash had put aside his pride and given him a stilted, embarrassed apology after Decathlon last week. That had been weird. He was tired of people being sorry. It didn’t help.

“Yeah, we were really close. She and my uncle raised me, from when I was six. Then a couple years ago my uncle… she was all I had,” Peter whispered the last sentence. She was all he had. The last family he had left. The woman who had basically become his mother. Gone. One too many drinks and one stupid decision by a stranger and she was gone.

“That sounds hard. It sounds like she was amazing person, and very important to you.”

“Yeah, she was,” Peter laughed sadly. “The best.”

His eyes focused again on the horizon _god it would be so easy to just jump_ -

“It’s difficult to deal with the death of a family member,” Sam’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Sometimes it just takes time. But if it’s not getting better, or it’s too difficult for you to deal with there are options to consider.”

_Here we go_ , Peter thought. He waited for the infamous word-

“Therapy is one option.” There it was. _Therapy_. Mr. Stark had talked to him about it. And Pepper. And his teachers. His Principal. The school guidance counsellor. Mr. Stark assured him he could find him the best therapist in Manhattan. He could even bury them in so many NDA’s he could talk to them about Spider-Man.

“Grief counselling. There are a few options, you could either do one on one therapy or there are groups available, grief counselling groups, groups specifically for teenagers. Lots of options to think about there. Would you consider something like that?”

Peter hesitated.

“I don’t… I don’t know. I mean my foster- person…” Peter tried to think of the right title to describe Mr. Stark. He couldn’t exactly go with _Superhero Mentor_ and the last time he’d told a teacher he was now living with his Boss they’d looked mildly concerned and about ready to call CPS. “My guardian has spoken to me about it.” Guardian was about right, he decided. It was the legal term.

“That’s good. Your guardian, they’re good to you? You’re in a good situation?” Another question he’d heard a million times since May had passed. His teachers were all aware that May was his last remaining family. He was touched his teachers cared so much, but he was tired of discussing it to be honest.

“Yeah. Yeah, he’s great, they’re great. He’s a… family friend, I guess.” It wasn’t entirely untrue. Mr. Stark had been invited over for burnt lasagne at May’s apartment a few times. “He’s great.”

“That’s good. Can you talk to him about any of this? Sometimes it can help to talk to the people close to us about what’s going on.”

Peter considered Sam’s words for a few seconds. He could talk to Mr. Stark. He knew the man would be understanding, he knew that he’d do whatever he could to help him. He’d made that very clear, numerous times. He knew he could trust him, of course. Maybe not with the whole, wanting to kill himself thing, but with the stuff about May, and Spider-Man. He’d never tell him about Flash, although he’d eased up a little since May’s death, out of pity he assumed. Mr. Stark would probably kill him.

He could talk to him. But he was busy, Peter didn’t want to bother him. Besides, he’d probably overreact and worry and cancel all his meetings to watch him 24/7 and make sure he’s not sad. He didn’t want to bother the man.

And maybe there was a tiny, tiny part of him that thought that Mr. Stark would realise he was too much work and too fucked up and kick him out.

“Um. I don’t know, I mean I guess, but… I don’t know,” Peter stammered.

“It can be difficult to open up to people, even people we trust and care about.”

Sam understood. That made Peter feel a little less guilty about being so unwilling to open up to the man who had gone out of his way to help him in every way he possibly could.

“Is your aunt what made you call tonight Peter?”

Ah. Back to the subject. Peter resisted the temptation to block his ears against the wind. He couldn’t talk to Sam if his ears were blocked, and he actually thought it might be helping, talking to Sam. He didn’t know Sam, but somehow, he trusted him. He was a kind, calm, reassuring voice on the end of the line. He made him feel a little less crazy. A little more understood.

“Partially I suppose.” Peter’s voice grew steadier as he became more confident. “Like I said, there’s a lot going on I suppose. School stuff and- and other stuff.”

“School can be difficult to deal with, especially when you’re going through a difficult time. How about your school, do you have a guidance counsellor?”

Peter thought of the uncomfortable squeaking of the leather couch and the young 20 something woman who looked down at him with pity. He kind of hated her. She was nice and all, he felt bad for hating her, but he was tired of being pitied. Her voice was too soft and sad when she spoke to him, leaning forward with her eyes wide and mouth downturned. It was like she was trying to stare into his soul and uncover all his childhood trauma.

“Er… yeah we do,” Peter mumbled reluctantly. Sam laughed on the other end of the line.

“I’m assuming you don’t want to talk to them,” Sam chuckled. Peter grinned a little despite himself.

“Not really, no,” Peter admitted.

“That’s fine. Different people click differently, even with therapy it can take a while to find someone who’s right.” Sam paused, his next words slightly hesitant. “I do just need to make sure… you know, since you called us tonight. Are you safe at the moment?”

Peter considered it. Objectively, the answer was no. The top of the Manhattan bridge was certainly not safe, by any definition. But was he going to do it? Was he going to jump? Because that’s what Sam really wanted to know.

“Um,” Peter faltered. How much to tell him? Could they call the Police? Had he given him enough information? I mean, Sam knew his first name and that his aunt died. That was about it. “I don’t… maybe? I don’t know, I haven’t really… I mean talking has helped.” Peter realised he wasn’t lying. It really had. He was feeling a lot better about everything, weirdly. They hadn’t even really talked about the situation, but knowing that there were options, that there were people out there he could talk to even if it was a stranger working at the Suicide Hotline, helped put things in perspective. Maybe they weren’t completely wrong when they said feeling suicidal was temporary. Maybe it would pass.

“Are you contemplating suicide tonight?” Sam’s voice grew a little more serious now, a slight but noticeable difference from his calm, easy manner so far.

“Yes. I mean, I was. I don’t… I don’t know. I think,” Peter paused for a minute, thinking hard. He thought of Mr. Stark waiting back at the Tower, probably pulling a late night in his lab unless Pepper had dragged him to bed already. He thought of Pepper, tired and stumbling down to the lab to grab his arm and drag him to their bedroom with an exasperated expression. He thought of Ned and MJ expecting to see him at school on Monday.

And he thought of May. Beautiful, amazing May who had given up her life when his parents died to take care of him, and to love him. Who had worked double shifts and weekends and holidays to keep a roof over their head and buy his school supplies that weren’t covered by his scholarship. And he smiled.

Sam waited, seeming to understand that he needed a second. “I think I’m okay for now,” Peter said honestly.

“That’s good, Peter. That’s really good,” Peter thought he heard a tinge of relief in Sam’s voice. “Right now, there are some things I could suggest until you decide what to do. Websites and apps that could help, coping mechanisms, even counselling programs in the area. How does that sound?”

Peter smiled. “Yeah that sounds good, thank you.”

He was okay for tonight. And maybe that was enough for right now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's eyes widened in shock. Surely not. It wasn't possible. There are probably a million Peters in New York City. It was too much of a coincidence.
> 
> "S- Sam?"
> 
> Holy shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! thank you so much for the kudos and comments on the first chapter! I honestly was not expecting that! I know I only posted in this morning but I currently have nothing better to do, thanks corona. No trigger warnings for this chapter. Slight mentions of the phone call and suicidal thoughts though, so read with caution.

“Come on, let’s go. Saturday morning we’ve got shit to do.” Peter groaned as he was suddenly assaulted by the sun from his now open curtains. “Stuff to do? Are you old enough for the word shit?” Peter snorted.

“Mr. Stark, it’s…” Peter reached out blindly and felt around the space next to his pillow until he found his phone and switched it on, squinting at the new light. “It’s 6.30 in the morning. On a Saturday. That should be like, illegal or something,” He complained. Mr. Stark didn’t seem perturbed.

“I told you, shit to do, people to see, I’m a busy man.” Peter snorted again. Tony’s idea of busy was attending one meeting and answering two emails, much to Pepper’s constant frustration and exasperation. “Get your ass up Underoos. If you’re not in the kitchen in ten I’m pulling out the ice water.”

Peter’s eyes widened as he jumped out of bed despite his whole body protesting the sudden movement so early in the morning. “I’m up! I’m up!” He heard Mr. Stark’s triumphant laughter as he made his way back to the kitchen. Asshole.

Peter’s mind wandered as he showered and dressed for the day. He’d come home at 2 in the morning, sneaking in through his bedroom window. Thankfully, FRIDAY wasn’t a snitch. Apparently, Mr. Stark hadn’t counted on him sneaking out, and so hadn’t programmed her to specifically tell him if Peter snuck out in the night. Peter was grateful.

He thought about the bridge and how exhilarating it had been to be on the very top, knowing that just one move and he could-

But he wasn’t supposed to think about that. The app Sam had put him onto had told him to try to distract himself from the thoughts as soon as they started. He guessed breakfast was as good a distraction as any.

“Morning sweetheart, how did you sleep?” Peter thought Pepper was entirely too cheerful for it being not even 7 o’clock on a Saturday morning as she kissed his forehead and directed him towards a stool at the breakfast bar. She looked perfect, as usual, her clothes a little more casual than her usual pencil skirts and pantsuits but still expensive looking and pressed to perfection. Peter wondered idly if it was actually possible to get clothes that smooth and wrinkle free or if Mr. Stark had invented some high-tech magic iron specifically to make them look that way.

“I slept alright,” Peter lied through his teeth. It wasn’t like he could explain he’d been on top of a bridge contemplating suicide until 2 in the morning. Peter reached out and grabbed a pancake from the large plate on the counter, swallowing half of it in one bite. Pepper rolled her eyes and slide a plate in front of him.

“Morning Underoos, sleep okay?” Mr. Stark walked into the kitchen grabbing a pancake and, in a motion almost identical to Peter, eating almost half of it at once. Pepper sighed and closed her eyes, as if praying to some deity to give her the strength to deal with them both. Peter could have sworn he heard her mutter some Not Child Appropriate Words under her breath.

“Anyways kid,” Mr. Stark turned to Peter. “I have some people coming over today, I was wondering how you’d feel about meeting them?” Peter frowned. They never had people over.

“They’re coming to the penthouse?” He asked. Tony didn’t let anyone in the penthouse.

“Yeah, good friends of mine. They’re actually going to be living here for a few months, we’re doing some renovations upstate.”

Wait a minute. Upstate?

“Hold on are you talking about… are you saying-”

“Keep your little fanboy hat on kiddo, yes the Avengers are coming over. And they’re gonna be here a while so it’s probably best you learn how to speak in front of them, maybe even to them!” Tony grinned mischievously. Peter through a pancake at his face.

“Peter! Really, was that necessary?” Peter’s eyes widened as Pepper turned on him, hands on hips, looking every bit as intimidating as she did on television.

“Sorry Pepper,” he rushed to apologise. She would never admit it, but Peter saw her smile just a little before she rolled her eyes and turned away.

“I’m going to go get dressed, I have a meeting in an hour. Behave!”

“A meeting?” Tony called after her “It’s Saturday morning!” He didn’t get an answer.

Tony turned back to Peter. “So,” Tony said as Peter took his tenth pancake. “The guys’ll be here in about half an hour, they’re going to be staying for a few months, like I said.”

“What happened to the compound?”

“Structural damage. got bombed,” Tony said casually, as if this was a regular occurrence at the Avengers Compound. Honestly, Peter wouldn’t have been surprised if it was. He decided to ignore it.

“So who is going to be here? Like everyone, all of them?” Peter asked, eyes widening as he thought of all the different Avengers he’d get to meet.

“Most of them, yeah.” Tony finished off his breakfast and moved over to the living room, Stark Pad in hand already working on blueprints for the new Stark Phone that was supposed to be released in a few months. A lot of people found it rude, how Tony would just walk off and do something completely different in the middle of a conversation, but Peter knew the man didn’t like to sit still. He was still listening. Peter followed him, sitting in the armchair by the huge windows.

“Some live at home,” Tony continued, “The guys who aren’t actually SHIELD operatives, you know they only do the big stuff. Ant-Man, Dr. Strange.” Peter watched Tony’s fingers working quickly over the state-of-the-art touch screen, rewiring something in the phone. “Thor spends a lot of time on Asgard but he stops in every few weeks, he has a room. Clint spends his time off with his family on some farm in butt fu-” Tony cut himself off looking up at Peter’s raised eyebrow. “In the middle of nowhere.”

Peter snorted. “Wow, Mr. Stark, what would Pepper say if she heard that kind of language?” Peter grinned as Mr. Stark threw a pillow at him.

“She’d say don’t swear in front of the teenager or she’ll rinse your mouth out like you’re a child.” Tony jumped, almost dropping his Stark Pad causing Peter to laugh himself off the armchair he was previously sitting in. Pepper sent him a smirk.

“I didn’t even swear! I stopped myself!” Tony argued indignantly. Pepper giggled, giving them both a kiss on the forehead before grabbing her briefcase and walking towards the elevator.

“Behave!” she yelled over her shoulder. “And Tony, please don’t let Bucky and Sam wrestle in my kitchen again, there’s a perfectly good boxing ring in the gym for them to destroy.” From the way Pepper said it, Peter gathered this had happened more than once.

“Sure thing, love you,” Tony called back. Pepper rolled her eyes.

“Love you too,” she said. “God knows why,” she muttered as the elevator doors closed, too quiet for Tony to hear. Peter snorted.

“What’s so funny?” Tony demanded.

“Nothing!” Peter insisted, trying his best not to laugh.

“She’s muttering things again isn’t she!” Tony cried indignantly. “FRIDAY she’s muttering isn’t she! Was she muttering?” Tony turned towards the ceiling.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Boss.” FRIDAY’s metallic Irish accent came through the speakers hidden around the penthouse. Peter was now laughing so hard his stomach hurt as Tony huffed in mock offense.

It felt good to laugh like this. Strange. Peter realised it might be the first time he’s laughed, properly laughed, since May…

That was all it took to bring everything crashing down again. It was funny how in just a few seconds he could go from laughing and having fun, to thinking about- something his app said he should try not to distract himself from.

“I’m… I’m going to go get some homework out the way before everyone gets here.” Peter tried to keep the cheer and laughter in his voice, but he must have failed because Tony was looking at him in concern.

“Everything alright Pete?” Wow, Tony must be worried if he was using first names. Peter shuddered to think what would warrant a full Peter from the man, he seemed to have an endless number of nicknames and movie references to call him. He never used his first name, not even when he was hurt. When he got hurt, he was Spider-Man. Pete meant concern.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, just not looking forward to this English essay,” Peter tried to smile as he turned to head towards his room.

“Okay,” Tony answered reluctantly. Peter could almost feel his eyes on the back of his head, watching him retreat up the hall.

Peter had only been gone a few seconds when Tony heard the elevator ding. He jumped up off the couch, more excited than he would admit about seeing his teammates again. Sure, they were incredibly annoying and destroyed his stuff and could probably eat even him out of house and home if they tried hard enough. But somehow, along the way they had become his friends. The airport, the “Civil War” as the public had named it, was now nothing more than a blip on the radar. In fact, it had somehow solidified their friendships and even forged some new ones.

Tony had actually grown quite fond of Bucky. The man was very much like Steve, perhaps a little less hot headed and reckless, but still with that same ridiculous need to run headfirst into danger to protect anyone and everyone. Sam was another one of the newer Avengers Tony had come to like. Always kind and willing to help out a friend however he could. Tony would like to think he counted among the man’s friends.

They all streamed out of the elevator, noisy and raucous as ever. Sam and Bucky were indeed wrestling while Clint and Bruce seemed to be in some sort of debate, Natasha watching on fondly. He grinned in surprise when Rhodey stepped out of the elevator as well.

“Hey guys! Honeybear! Didn’t think you were coming for another week, aren’t you supposed to be in DC for that ceremony thing?” Tony ran forward and hugged him. Rhodey laughed.

“Sounded boring, decided to skip it,” He said hugging Tony back. “Besides, someone’s gotta keep these idiots in line, Natasha and Bruce can’t do it all on their own.” Clint pouted indignantly.

“Hello Tony,” Steve stepped forward and Tony reached out to shake his hand, but Steve was having none of it and Tony’s eyes widened slightly in surprise as Steve pulled him into a hug as well. “Thank you for letting us stay here while the renovations are sorted out. We appreciate it.”

“Hey,” Tony said stepping back and looking around at his team. “Technically it’s still the Avengers Tower. You’re all welcome anytime.”

Tony glanced up the hall to see the kid’s door still shut. He’d bring him out in a minute, he knew he could hear the Avengers had arrived but he thought this was a good chance to give the team a heads up about the teenager that would be living with them. “Listen, why don’t we take a seat in the living room, there are a couple things to go through before you all settle in, if that’s okay with everyone?” Everyone nodded and voiced their agreements, all heading over to find a seat on one of the comfortable couches or armchairs scattered through the living room. Clint and Natasha perched themselves on the window seat in the corner of the room.

“Alright, so Natasha, Bruce, Steve, Clint you guys know where your rooms are, they haven’t changed. Thor’s room is still there too for when he comes to Earth, we should probably find a way to inform him about the Compound.” Tony turned to the newer Avengers. “Wands, Vision, Bucky and Sam. I’ve set up rooms for both of the you with the others. The Avengers floor is the floor right below this one, there’s a living room, kitchen, a couple common spaces. Steve’s got a painting room down there, if you guys want a room for something let me know and I’ll sort it out. You each have your own room with separate bathrooms and everything. Decorate however you want; FRIDAY can help you order anything you’d like for your rooms just ask.”

The four of them nodded. “Thank you, Tony, for all of this,” Same smiled at the man he hadn’t known for very long but already liked.

“Hey anytime,” Tony replied easily. “We’re the Avengers, right? Teamwork and all that jazz.” Tony hesitated slightly, looking at the kid’s room. The team didn’t know he was Spider-Man, and Tony wanted to keep it that way, at least while the kid was still grieving and getting settled in living in the Tower.

“So, there’s been a slight change since we last talked. You remember Pepper mentioned I had taken on an intern?” The team all nodded, Clint seemed to trying to throw balls of lint from the cushions at Steve’s head, while Steve ignored him determinedly.

“So, my intern Peter lives here with me, in the penthouse,” Tony began to explain. There was understandably some confusion among the team.

“What, why?”

“You’re intern lives with you?”

“He lives in the penthouse?”

Tony huffed in exasperation, “Yes, if you’ll allow me to talk, I’ll explain.” Everyone quieted down.

“His aunt recently passed away, and he doesn’t…” Tony glanced towards the door again. He knew Peter would be able to hear everything he was saying with his enhanced hearing. He hated to remind him of everything that had happened, but it was important for the team to know about it to avoid painful questions. “He and I became close,” Tony spoke hesitantly, wary of giving too much away. “He didn’t have any other family, so Pepper and I took him in. His room is on this floor, next to mine and Pepper’s.”

Sam frowned slightly, a memory from his shift at his part time job last night coming to mind. Surely not, he thought. Too much of a coincidence. There are probably a million Peters in New York City. He was glad he could help that kid last night, though. That was why he did it. He loved his job.

Tony’s voice shook Sam out of his thoughts. “I’ll go and get him so you can meet him before you head down and settle into your rooms. Feel free to come up here anytime, but Pepper and I do a lot of our work up here, so please be respectful, keep the roughhousing to your own floor.” Tony walked away down the hall.

“Poor kid,” commented Clint, eyes wide with pity. Everyone nodded in agreement, stopping quickly as Tony re-entered the room with a young teenager. He couldn’t have been older than 14, maybe 15.

Peter tried to subtly edge behind Tony as they walked further into the lion’s den. The Avengers eyes all turned on him, inspecting him, sizing him up, watching him as he crossed his arms over his chest self-consciously.

“H- Hi everyone. I’m Pete- I’m Peter,” Peter tried not to blush as he stumbled over his words. His eyes were drawn to a man sitting on the couch next to Steve. He looked shocked, more so than the others, staring at Peter with wide eyes. Peter met his eyes nervously, confused and a little terrified of the man.

“Peter these are the Avengers,” Tony interrupted their little staring contest. “I’m sure you recognise most of them, I swear they’re not as scary as they look on TV.” Everyone chuckled a little. “You might not know a few people, this is Wanda, Vision, Bucky and Sam, newest additions to the team.” Peter smiled a little trying not to show how anxious he really was.

“Hello.”

“Hi Peter, it’s nice to meet you.” Natasha took the lead, a soft smile on her face as she turned towards the kid. He looked like he thought they were going to attack him. “We don’t bite, I swear,” she joked. Everyone laughed.

“So, you’re Stark’s intern,” Clint said. “You must be smart, you like science?” Peter seemed to perk up a little at that.

“Yeah, I love science!” Peter grinned a little, slowly growing more comfortable with everyone.

Sam stared at the kid, eyes still wide in shock. Surely not. It wasn’t possible. Teenagers voices all sounded the same right? They all sound squeaky and stutter-y and similar. But there were some calls that stuck with him, and Peter’s had been one of them. He had called crying and anxious and in crisis and Sam had been able to help him out of it. He’d said talking to him had helped him feel better. Sam hadn’t stopped smiling until he took his next call. Sam looked at Peter who was glancing at him anxiously, probably because of the creepy staring thing he’d been doing.

“Hey kid, my names Sam. Nice to meet you.”

And oh. Oh. Peter knew that voice. His Parker luck had really outdone itself this time.

“S- Sam?”

Holy shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Next chapter should be up soon! This was just going to be a short like three chapter story but I've had some new ideas and I think I might have a few more chapters. Updates will be pretty regular and quick at first thanks to quarantine and school holidays, so stay tuned! Ace x


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No real trigger warnings this chapter. Again, some suicidal thoughts and mentions of the phone call and Sam's work, but nothing graphic I guess. Hope you enjoy!

“S- Sam?”

Peter stared at the man in shock. Surely this could not be happening.

“You’re Peter,” Sam stated, staring at this kid, _Tony’s_ kid, who he’d talked down from suicide just last night. Part of Sam was so incredibly happy to meet the kid, to see him alive and well. He never gets to know what happens to the people he helps after they hang up the phone. Do they seek out the help he suggests? Do they call back again the very next night? Do some of them end up… Sam tries not to think about that too often. He helps people the best he can, and then it’s up to them from there. That’s the job.

“Have you two met before?” Tony asked hesitantly, the whole team looking back and forth between the two, some curious, others just confused.

“No!” Peter nearly shouted, eyes wide and scared as he looked up at Tony. So Tony didn’t know, then. Shit. He vaguely remembered the boy saying something about not wanting to talk to his guardian.

“No, I don’t- we don’t know…” Peter stumbled over his words, trying to think of something to say to stop the curious looks he was getting. And to stop Tony from finding out how he knew Sam.

“We met each other at the shops the other week. Just thought it was a funny coincidence, is all,” Sam cut in smoothly. He saw the relief on Peter’s face, as if the kid had expected him to tell Tony exactly what had happened last night. Not only was Sam bound by confidentiality and privacy laws, since Peter didn’t appear to be in any immediate danger, but it wouldn’t help anyway. He always felt guilty the few times he had to alert the police because he knew it would make things a hell of a lot worse before it made them better. He sent Peter what he hoped was a reassuring smile. The kid still seemed tense.

“Huh.” Tony huffed a little “Small world, I guess. Why don’t you guys get settled in, we’ll have a team dinner tonight. Pizza sound good to everyone?” Everyone nodded in agreement, saying their goodbyes to both Tony and Peter as they headed towards the elevator.

Once they were gone, Tony turned to Peter. “You alright kid? Not gonna… I don’t know, explode or melt or something?” Peter glared at him slightly.

“No,” he huffed indignantly. “Are we doing anything today? I have some homework to get done,” Peter hoped his lie wasn’t too obvious. His homework had been done for days. Really, he just needed some alone time, to relax. And process.

The Avengers had seemed nice enough, though they were a little intimidating. Peter assumed he’d get used to them, especially if they’d be here for months. And then there was Sam. The man made him anxious. He’d seemed nice, and he’d lied to everyone about how they’d met. But was he going to tell Tony? There were laws against that right? He legally couldn’t say anything unless he was in danger. Peter knew that much. He’d made sure to thoroughly research the confidentiality policies before he made the call.

But what counted as ‘in danger’? If Sam thought he was suicidal would he be able to tell Tony? After all, he had been sat on the top of a bridge only a few hours ago, not that Sam knew that. But he had told the man on the call he’d been contemplating suicide. But he’d also said he was safe for now.

“Yeah kid, go get your homework done. If you get bored or need any help, I’ll be down in the lab yeah? Maybe we can work on those updates for Karen before dinner, how’s that sound?” Tony interrupted his mini crisis, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Peter managed to get out. He cleared his throat slightly. “Yeah, Mr. Stark that sounds good.”

“Stop calling me Mr. Stark! We’ve been over this, it makes me feel old,” Tony whined.

“Sorry Dr. Stark,” Peter grinned. He ducked as Tony’s hand came flying towards his head, giggling a little.

“Go finish your homework, you little shit.” Tony shoved his shoulder slightly, making his way towards the elevator.

Peter made his way to his bedroom, closing the door behind him and collapsing on his bed. He groaned into his pillow. Why is this his life? Why did these things always happen to him? There had to be hundreds of counsellors at that place, how did he manage to get Sam Wilson, The Falcon, who now lived on the floor below him? Tony’s teammate, and perhaps one day… his teammate. It had to have been him.

Peter wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk to the man or not. On the one hand, he should probably go and find out if he was going to tell Tony or not, and perhaps maybe attempt to convince him that he was mentally stable and last night was a one-time thing. But he didn’t know how he was going to face him. The man had heard him crying. He had heard him at his lowest point, contemplating whether or not to end his life. He’d told him things he’d never even considered telling anyone else, counting on the fact that this was an anonymous hotline and he’d never even know the person’s full name let alone meet them in person.

Peter sighed, putting in his headphones and turning the volume up until he couldn’t hear himself think anymore. Part of him was really starting to wish he hadn’t called. That he wasn’t here, that those few hours on the bridge had been his last. He wasn’t supposed to think about that. But fuck, was it getting tempting.

After unpacking and putting all his things away, Sam had made his way to the training room. Nothing to help get his mind off things like a good few rounds with a punching bag. He taped his knuckles with practised ease, moving to row of punching bags strung up from the ceiling and started pounding away. Turns out, the rhythmic thud of his fists on the heavy fabric wasn’t enough to distract him from the problem at hand.

Peter.

It was fairly obvious that Tony loved this kid, whether he knew it or not. The way he stood slightly in front of him as if ready to protect him from anyone who could be a threat. The way his hand automatically seemed to gravitate towards the kids shoulder whenever he was stood close enough. The way he’d talked about him before he’d come out, his tone protective but also loving and understanding and maybe a little proud. The kid had to be smart to be Tony’s personal intern. A genius, Sam would bet.

Sam sighed, punching the bag a little harder, his knuckles already red and inflamed, the tape starting to wear. It was obvious to Sam the kid was doing it tough. Not just with his aunt dying and moving in with Tony, but he remembered the kid had mentioned school. On the phone, Sam had assumed that Peter had been overwhelmed by the workload, maybe was struggling to keep up in some of his classes. That was a common theme with teenagers he talked to during his shifts. But the kid was a genius, no way Tony Stark’s personal intern was struggling academically.

He remembered Peter’s voice at the end of the call. Remembered his exact words. He remembered the hesitant ‘yes’ buried in amongst the kids stuttering and rambling when Sam had asked if he was suicidal. That doesn’t just go away. The kid needed help, although Sam had a funny feeling the kid was going to deny it until he was blue in the face when Sam eventually talked to him about it.

Because he had to talk to him, didn’t he? He couldn’t just let this go, the kid had called the Suicide Lifeline, crying and needing someone to talk him down. Tony’s kid. Sam punched a little harder again. He didn’t want to scare Peter. It was going to be a difficult topic to bring up. He clearly didn’t want Tony to know he wasn’t okay.

Sam walked away from the bag, blood seeping through the edges of the tape around his knuckles. Grabbing his towel from the floor beside him, he grabbed a water bottle from the fully stocked fridge in the corner and sat down.

He was at a loss. This child was not okay, he was suicidal and Sam was the only person who knew about it. He had kind of got the feeling that Peter hadn’t planned on taking to anyone. He took on board the websites and the apps, saving them on his phone but had retreated back into his shell a little as soon as Sam tried to mention counselling or talking to his guardian again.

After a lot of deliberation, Sam decided that the best thing to do was keep an eye on him. Watch and make sure he was doing okay, ask him how he was doing away from anyone else every now and then, give him the chance to open up if he wanted to. If the kid wanted to talk, he’d let him come to him. And he’d be there ready to help him as best as he could.

Sighing, happy with the conclusion he’d reached, Sam looked briefly at his watch, surprised at how much time had passed, and headed to the showers. Maybe he’d decorate his room a little before dinner.

Dinner with the Avengers was a noisy affair, Peter discovered. There was a lot of action going on. Clint and Tony seemed to be caught up in a lively debate about some really old movie Peter had never heard of. Bucky and Steve were having an arm-wrestling match at the other end of the table much to the frustration of Wanda and Natasha who were sitting opposite them. Vision appeared to be explaining some complicated scientific theory to Bruce who was eating his dinner peacefully as if this was normal, which Peter suspected it probably was.

And Sam was watching him.

He wasn’t being obvious about it, and if he was a normal human he wouldn’t have even noticed. But his senses meant he could see Sam’s eyes on him, glancing up briefly every now and then. Not enough to be weird, but enough that Peter could tell he was paying closer attention to him than he was to anyone else. It made him anxious.

Could Sam tell he was anxious? He was some sort of counsellor or something right? He knew from Tony that on top of his part time job answering calls at the National Suicide Lifeline, Sam helped returned veterans through the local VA, so Peter figured he must have some training or degree or something.

“Hey Peter!” Clint called from a couple seats down. “Tony says you built a lightsaber!” Peter looked up and blushed furiously when he realised everyone had quieted down slightly to look over at him.

“Oh um, yeah,” Peter said awkwardly. He was rather proud of himself for managing not to stutter this time. “I mean, its nothing cool or anything, just lights up,” He continued, glancing around the room slowly. He really hated being the centre of attention.

“That’s cool, you build stuff?” Sam asked him. He looked impressed.

“I mean, yeah sometimes. I’m more into biology and chemistry and stuff though,” Peter muttered.

“Yeah, he makes all of Spider-Man’s webbing,” Tony cut in, a proud look in his eyes.

“Spider-Man huh? You ever met him?” Natasha asked, her eyes narrowed slightly. She had always been curious about the young sounding vigilante Tony had brought to the airport. As far as she was aware, he usually stuck to the small stuff, local crime fighting and that sort of thing. Not taking on the Avengers in an airport in Germany.

“Um yeah, once or twice,” Peter said, then realised his mistake as everyone looked far too interested for his liking. “Only with his mask on though,” he hurried to add. “I don’t know who he is, I just make his webs.” The team seemed to deflate a little at that, realising they weren’t going to find out anything else about the mysterious spider themed hero. Natasha remained tense, her shoulders high and eyes zeroed in on Peter. Peter tried not to notice.

Dinner finished up quickly after that, and Peter offered to clean up while the others went to choose a movie. He regretted the decision when Sam stayed behind to help, leaving just the two of them in the kitchen alone. Peter wasn’t sure where to start. Should he say something? Should he pretend last night never happened? That he didn’t know who Sam was? No, that was stupid. For the first few minutes the two cleaned in silence, Peter taking care of the empty pizza boxes while Sam loaded the dishwasher.

Peter should have known it wouldn’t last.

“So,” Sam said slowly, dragging out the single syllable as if considering his next words carefully. Peter tensed. “How are you doing?”

There it was. The question Peter hated. Peter was a terrible liar, he knew that. Although since moving in he’d learned to lie to Tony pretty well, a fact that made him feel incredibly guilty, but it was necessary. It wasn’t like he could tell him the truth.

“Yeah I’m fine,” Peter answering. His answer only seemed to make Sam more concerned, and Peter cursed himself. He shouldn’t have used the F word. Everyone knew fine never actually meant fine.

“So you’re doing okay then?” Sam asked him. Peter threw the last of the pizza boxes down the trash chute and looked around the kitchen, desperate for something to do with his hands, but it seemed the cleaning up was finished. Peter sighed, turning to face Sam who was leaning against the kitchen counter having finished with the dishes.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m f-” Peter paused. “I’m good.” They both stood in awkward silence for a moment. Surprising himself, Peter managed to break the silence first. “Look, you don’t have to- I’m fine okay? It was just a one-off thing, I swear. Please just…” Peter’s voice trailed off slightly, trying to find words that would both reassure Sam and not cause him to break down in front of the man. He’d done that one times too many already. “Can we just forget it ever happened?” Peter almost begged, eyes on the floor. He knew what the answer was going to be, but he had to ask anyway.

Sam sighed slightly, looking at the kid in front of him. He could see it now. The bone crushing sadness that he couldn’t keep off his face completely. It was a look he saw so often in the people he helped, a look he hated to see on a 15-year-old kid. Tony’s 15-year-old kid. “Look kid,” he started. He saw Peter’s shoulders tense as he waited for what Sam was going to say next.

“I can’t forget it happened. I think you know that.” Peter’s shoulders somehow tensed even more, his eyes clenching shut as he tried not to lose it. He couldn’t cry, he couldn’t. He was trying to convince Sam that he was fine, that nothing was wrong. He couldn’t do that if he started crying like a baby. Again.

“But I’m not going to tell Tony, or anyone else, if that’s what you’re afraid of.” Peter looked up in shock.

“You’re not?” He asked cautiously, as if checking he’d heard him correctly. Sam smiled sadly.

“No, I won’t tell him. But!” Sam held up a finger as Peter’s entire body sagged in relief. “I have a few conditions.”

Peter nodded wildly, his curly hair falling over his face. He would do anything as long as Tony didn’t have to find out. Anything. Tony couldn’t ever know about this.

“You have to come to me,” Sam said. “If you ever feel like you did last night, you come and you talk to me. Or you send me a text, or you call me. You understand?” Peter nodded, a little more hesitant now. He knew he would never do that. It just wasn’t going to happen. But it wasn’t like Sam was a mind reader, he wouldn’t know that. He’d just keep up this act of being fine, then Tony never has to know and he doesn’t have to relive the embarrassing ordeal that was last night’s phone call.

“Even if all we do is sit in silence until you’re feeling better, you come to me.” Sam’s voice was firm and serious, but still had enough of the kindness Peter had heard last night to make Peter feel guilty for lying to him. But he didn’t have a choice.

“Yeah. Okay,” He agreed, hoping he sounded at least a tiny bit convincing.

“Good,” Sam said, standing up straight. “How about I give you my phone number and then we head into the common room and see what movie the team has put on. It better not be Mulan again. Great movie, but there is only so many times you can watch it,” Sam joked, hoping to lighten the mood a little. Peter laughed slightly as he pulled out his phone. They quickly exchanged numbers before heading into the common room where Mulan was playing on the large flat screen.

Mr. Stark waved Peter over and wrapped his arm around his shoulders as he sat down. Peter sighed and turned his attention to the movie. He only made it another 15 minutes before he was asleep on Tony’s shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it! If anyone knows how to make the end notes stop carrying over each chapter, please let me know it's really frustrating me lol. This kinda turned into a filler chapter tbh, but the next chapter will be much more interesting. Lot of trigger warnings next chapter though so read carefully. Ace x

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please comment and tell me what you thought. I don't live in America so I don't exactly know how the Suicide Hotline works over there, but I did some research and based a bit off my own experiences with Lifelines in Australia. I hope I did alright. The next chapter should be up soon! Ace x


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